the blooms of today
will disappear tomorrow
and it hurts. it hurts.


the blooms of today
will disappear tomorrow
and it hurts. it hurts.


all i want today
is to watch the sunlight shift
on these reborn blooms


the blue-sky morning
can't capture a year of loss
(oh Lord, that sweet scent)

yet afternoon light
so perfectly shines rosy
(ends this hell-frost year)
